Part 32 (1/2)

”Well, you'll find out my balloon is the only explanation,” bantered Ray. ”He carries one in his vest pocket, all neatly folded; he takes it out, blows it full of voodoo rum stuff, and--whiff--up he goes.”

”Maybe there's some one of those lianas hanging from the trees that he swings out of the water on,” offered Robert.

”That's so!” cried Norris. ”A fellow might swing a big long jump that way without touching his foot to the ground. I'm going to have another good look there first thing in the morning.”

Captain Marat had been taking stock of our supply of food.

”Someone have to go for more provision, if we stay much longer,” he said. ”We have hardly enough for one day.”

So that after some hours of sleep Robert and Marat set off to return to the _Pearl_ for fresh supplies. They planned to row across the end of Crow Bay before day should come, for there was no certainty that Duran's black on the isle might not have an eye out. It would not do to risk another daylight crossing.

Day had no sooner shot its earliest rays into the recesses of our forest, than Norris was over to the creek investigating the big vines that hung like so many ropes from the branches above. He finally came back to his breakfast, his face giving no signs of success.

”Never mind, Norris,” said Ray. ”If you're going to make that Duran out a monkey, you can hardly expect to find tracks--monkeys don't leave any.”

”Well, anyway,” insisted Norris, ”that's the way he went, and we'll find that gold mine up on my creek--see if we don't.”

For some unaccountable reason, I was not any more impressed by Norris'

conclusions than by Ray's playful explications, and I was taken with a desire to be alone with the problem. So I urged the others to go and explore Norris' creek, and I would remain on watch at this place of Duran's strange disappearance.

When the three had gone, moving eastward along the foot of that towering stone wall, I began where the water came tumbling out of that hole in the cliff, and carefully examined the banks of the creek again, up and down, for half a mile or so. I reasoned that if he waded into the stream he must certainly have waded out of it again. Unless, as Norris had conjectured, he had swung himself over the bank by the means of some liana. I therefore imitated Norris and searched both sides for evidence of any such means; and with a negative result. Nowhere, so far as the forest followed the stream, was there a loose liana near the bank on either side.

And then it came to me that perhaps Duran had gone into the water at the end of the path, only to retrace his steps and leave the path some way on the back trail, thus to deceive any who should chance to come so far on his track. And so I scrutinized every foot of the path back to the edge of the forest, and some way across the glade. I even went off the trail, and fought my way through the growth as I went back, paralleling the path, and looking for signs.

But I got back to the creek bank and the music of the little cascade, no nearer the solution than when I had started. Hours had been consumed in my search. It must have been past ten when I squatted on the stream's bank, looking into the clear water, puzzling over this thing.

A beam of sun shone down through the water and illumined the creek's bottom. A round bit of rock or coral lay there, almost white in that liquid light. For a long time I stared on that spot, as if the solution were to be found there. I never before had felt so baffled.

And then I was startled! I could no longer see that stone--nor any part of the creek's bed. The water had in that moment become turbid.

Something had muddied it. I leaped to my feet and hurried up to the fountain in the cliff. The water was coming out of the rock in that muddied condition. Now what could it all mean? I asked myself. And I set my wits to the thing as I continued to stare at the phenomenon.

Presently the water cleared a bit. And then in a little it came as muddy as ever again.

CHAPTER XXIII

WHAT THE WATER HID

My thoughts flew. In a moment more I thrilled with an idea. Then I dashed into the water and got myself up to the little waterfall, made, as I have said, by a portion of the water coming round a rock and flowing over the edge of a flat shelf of rock.

I tried to look through that thin veil of liquid, failing which, I braved a shower and put my head through. In another moment I had my whole body behind that little cascade. I crouched, sputtering, under the rocky shelf. Then for eight or ten feet I crawled forward in the darkness. Directly, the pa.s.sage made a little turn to the right, and the ground under my hands sloped upward. It may have been fifty feet, it may have been a hundred and fifty feet, that I had penetrated that cliff--my excitement had taken no measure of the distance--when I found that I could no longer feel the wall on either side. I was in a cavern of unknown dimensions.

I could hear the rus.h.i.+ng of water, below and to my left. A feeling of exultation filled me almost to bursting; I had at last discovered Duran's secret. I came to a stop, fearing to lose my exit. How I wished for my flashlight! I had come away leaving it aboard the _Pearl_.

I do not know how long I had tarried in that spot, when a beam of light struck down from above on my right. And then came sounds of some being up there, and the light approached.

I retreated into the narrow pa.s.sage by which I had come, ready to scramble out if there should be need. But soon the slant of the light beams showed me that the lamp had pa.s.sed to the left, and I ventured forward again, and peeked around a projection of rock.